The nurse pushed him out of the room, closing the door behind them. She looked at the gathering crowd and winced, almost imperceptibly. Giving Clark a sympathetic smile, she softly asked him to help move the people in the hall back to their rooms.
We don't want them to see the bodybag was unspoken. After all, death floated in the air here, no need to flaunt its touch.
Looking out the large window in the hall, Clark caught a glimpse of a gray Ferrari Spider 348. He winced as the engine whined, Lex doing something cruel to the gears as he sped down the driveway of the Smallville Retirement Home at a speed much too fast for the usual drivers here. Twenty-five in a sixty was speeding to this crowd. Pushing Mr. Zabriski's wheelchair down the hall,Clark tried to put Lex out of his mind. He helped the old man, just skin and bones, really, from his wheelchair to the bed, not needing any superpowers to accomplish the task. After finding Mr. Z's remote and copy of TV Guide, Clark returned to Cassandra's room.
A large bouquet of white roses lay on the bed, and Clark touched the soft, silky lip of one pale petal. Lost in thought, he slid his finger down the petals, not noticing when the thorns broke, leaving his skin untouched.
Two large orderlies rolled a gurney into the room, sliding glances at Clark, but saying nothing. The nurse followed them in and turned to Clark. "You shouldn't be here, son."
Clark nodded. "I know... I just..."
The nurse nodded, but led him toward the door. Clark looked down at the flowers he was still holding. "Do you know who brought these to Cassandra?"
The nurse frowned. "A young, bald man. Poor dear was with her when... " She smiled faintly, apparently turning her attention to the half full glass. "At least she wasn't alone when she passed."
Clark heard a zipper being pulled behind them. He turned back, watching as one of the orderlies started to zip up the bag. "Just a minute," Clark said, slipping by the nurse. Taking a single white rose from the bouquet, he slipped it into Cassandra's hands, crossed on her breast. He touched her cold, lined cheek, wondering what she could have told him, if she could have helped him to understand better. Turning, he walked as fast as he could without superpowers out of the room. He still heard the zipper as the body bag was sealed.
Taking only a minute to detour through the greatroom, giving the bouquet to a group of old women playing a rather cutthroat game of cribbage, Clark left the retirement home. Once clear of the gates, he sped through the corn, heading to the stone castle on the other side of town.
Clark bent the bars on the side fence and crossed the grounds, blurring past the still frozen lake. He entered the house through the kitchens, and started down the hall to Lex's office. The halls were silent, no sign of the cook or the houseman. Closing his eyes, Clark opened them again, and started to turn, using his X-Ray vision to get a thorough three-sixty of the house.
Lex was in the garage.
With the Porsche.
Steeling himself, Clark started down the short hall to the garage. He went down the five steps, and opened the door, stopping in the doorway. The lights were off. That was one thing the X-Ray hadn't told him --
-- that Lex was sitting in the dark, with the car that pretty much screamed 'Death'.
"Lex?"
No response.
"Lex?" Clark called again, just a little louder, just a little more insistent.
"What is it, Clark?" Lex's voice came out of the darkness, no emotion tainting the words, just... toneless.
He risked the X-Ray headache again and finally saw Lex. He was sitting on the floor on the other side of the room, staring at the Porsche. His heart was beating fast; Clark could see the blood pulsing through him, bright red lines thrumming through muscle and bone, in a hectic rhythm Clark could feel in his toes.
Moving cautiously, cursing softly as he finally noticed that X-Ray vision was like gum, he couldn't do it and walk at the same time, Clark finally stopped a foot from where Lex was still sitting. He was still staring at the car, or whatever it was he was seeing in the car.
"Lex, are you okay?" Clark winced at the inanity of the question; glad for once that Lex couldn't see him in the dark. He sat down about a foot away, folding his long legs with the coltish grace of the young, sitting indian style.
"I'm fine, Clark."
"Ahh. Lex, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you usually sit on the cold floor of your garage."
There was no response. Not even a snort of agreement or derision. Nothing.
Time for the more direct approach. "Lex, were you there when Cassandra died?"
That got a response. Clark felt Lex turn in his direction, knew those blue-gray eyes were on him, even if they couldn't see him.
"I didn't kill her," was the soft reply.
Clark blanched, his hand crossing the distance to Lex's arm, squeezing gently, but getting no response. "God, Lex... I didn't mean that..."
"Didn't you?" Lex's voice had even less inflection now, and Clark began to panic. What had he done?
"No, I didn't." Clark's response was vehemently earnest. His hand slipped down Lex's arm, over his hand, touching the smooth skin, then away.
"Oh."
Clark began to wonder if this was shock. He started to think back to health class, first aid, but strangely enough, all he could think of was Coach Walt pulling the condom over the banana, telling the class to always suit up and wear their helmets before a game.
Body heat. Maybe that would help.
Slowly, Clark uncrossed his legs and slid around the cold floor until he was behind Lex. He opened his legs, and positioned himself behind his friend, then slid forward, encompassing Lex with his body, with his warmth. He wondered if he had done the wrong thing when he felt Lex stiffen, his back rigid against Clark's chest.
"Clark? What are you doing?" But even as he asked the question, Lex was leaning back. Into Clark's warmth, still tense, but boneless, too. Clark's arms slid around him by instinct, pure touch, comforting touch. The feel of a shirt, most likely silk, most likely costing more money that most of Clark's wardrobe combined, under Clarks' softly petting fingers. The fabric moving easily over the smooth skin that rested beneath it.
"I think you might be in shock," Clark started earnestly. "I'm pretty sure we need to warm you up."
This time Lex did snort.
But he didn't move away, just leaned against Clark, still tense, still... cold.
"Lex, what happened?"
"She died." No inflection. Clark wondered if Lex knew that the lack of sarcasm was a clear indication that he was upset.
"I'm sorry you had to be there, Lex. But the nurse said at least someone was there when she passed."
"She was reading my future. And she died." Lex ran his hand over Clark's larger one, his fingers settling on top.
"It wasn't your fault, Lex. Really." Clark leaned forward, and his cheek glanced against Lex's smooth scalp. It felt - different. No hair. None of the scents of shampoo, conditioner, or hairspray, just the scent of ... Lex.
So unlike Lana. But deeply - primally - familiar and comfortable.
Lex started to speak, then stopped. Clark just continued to stroke his arm, relaxing, finally feeling Lex start to unwind, the tension ever so slowly melting away, like he was finally finding some comfort. It occurred to Clark that when you're lost so deep, twenty-one isn't much older than fifteen-going-on-sixteen. "It wasn't good, what she saw."
Clark stopped stroking. "Did you see it? What she saw?"
"No." Clark knew Lex could feel his sudden tension. "It was more a cold feeling; I thought she's come out of it, you know? Tell me something pithy about how I was going to live long, take long journeys. But she didn't. She was... cold, the minute she went into ... where ever she went."
Clark thought for a minute. "What do you think she saw?"
"Death." Lex was silent, considering, before finishing. "And I think that what she saw scared her to death."
"You're not going to die, Lex." Clark said it before he could stop himself.
"Everyone dies, Clark."
"You aren't going to die. At least not soon."
Lex turned in his arms, and tried again to look at Clark, who used the X-Ray again to see the muscles around his eyes narrowing. Was he trying to look inside? "Clark?"
"When she saw my future... I saw it too," Clark confessed reluctantly, willing Lex not to look too deep. Not here, not now. Not in the dark. Not after Cassandra had died. Not when Lex was finally getting warm and Clark could feel the hand on his thigh like a brand.
"That isn't possible, Clark."
"I know. But I saw it."
"What did you see?" Clark sighed, then went still as Lex's hand traced his face in the dark. Sliding into thick black hair. "Can't see you," Lex said by way of explanation, pulling his hands back, leaving Clark with a curious sense of... loss.
"Graves," Clark said softly.
Lex's other hand, the one that still lay on top of Clark's jean covered leg, clenched. "Graves?"
"Of everyone I care about... except you."
Lex stopped breathing.
"Lex?" Clark questioned, wondering if he would have to give Lex mouth to mouth again. Almost ashamed at the small thrill that the thought sent through him.
Lex breathed in deeply, shuddering. "Graves." Clark felt Lex's head tilt, knew Lex was considering this new wrinkle. "And that's why I'm going to live a long time? Because you didn't see my grave with everyone else you care about?"
Clark nodded, then remembered Lex probably couldn't see him in the dark of the garage. "Yeah."
"Maybe..." Lex stopped. Clark just waited. For some reason, their earlier conversation came back to him. Life without a roadmap. "Maybe, you won't care." Clark closed his eyes, knowing pain when he heard it.
"I don't think I can ever stop caring, Lex." The words were out before he could think them over. Before he could try to couch them in terms better suited for situations of life and death, for the unbelievable yet completely right situation when he was holding this man in his arms, in the dark, on a cold garage floor.
He knew Lex's face was close to his, knew it when he felt soft, warm breath against his cheek. He moved in closer, and without pausing to see with X-Ray, because he knew what was inside this already, knew without knowing, what this was, Clark slid his lips onto Lex's.
Soft.
Hard.
Lex.
It lasted for years. Or seconds. When Lex's mouth opened, Clark trembled, tensing as a tongue slid across his lips. One hand sliding up Lex's neck, to that soft, smooth skin on the back of his head, Clark parted his lips, still surprised as warm breath, followed by a warmer tongue, slid inside.
And then he tasted Lex, his cock getting hard. He felt like he was glowing, his face was warm, and as Lex drew back, he stroked a cheek, and Clark thought that smooth hand must be burned. He let go of Lex, his hands falling to his sides, and he was glad for the darkness that surrounded them.
"God, Clark. I'm sorry..." Lex choked back a laugh, a bitter sound.
"You are?" Clark wondered if he sounded as lost to Lex's ears as he did to his own.
"Well, not really."
Clark smiled, his cheeks still burning from embarrassment, his cock still hard. Lex's answer relieving a panic deep inside a place he really didn't want to think about, not today. But he had to be honest, as honest as he could be in this dark room, across from the one thing he couldn't be honest about -- yet. "Lex, I'm not... either."
Lex started to move away, and Clark felt the cold of the floor start to penetrate his bones. When Lex hit one of the strobes, the light was blinding. They both held their hands in front of their eyes, trying to stop the painfully bright light. The first thing Clark noticed was that Lex was pressed just as hard against the fly of his expensive slacks as Clark was against the JC Penney's jeans he wore. He looked up into Lex's eyes, and the blush started exactly where it had left off. God.
Clark got to his feet, managing to avoid looking directly at the Porsche. He knew Lex noticed, but he breathed a silent sigh of relief when Lex seemed to shrug it off. They weren't finished with the issue, but something had... changed, something had grown between them. And Lex didn't seem to want to break that any more than he did.
"I am sorry your first kiss was on my garage floor, though, Clark."
Clark turned to look at him, his thoughts diverted from the expensive tuna can in the middle of the room. "It wasn't my first kiss," he corrected Lex, indignation in his voice.
"Really?"
"Well, my first kiss with a ..."
"... guy?" Lex interrupted helpfully.
"Yeah," Clark ignored the blush he felt creeping over his cheeks. "But I did kiss Chloe in the second grade," he said, following Lex as he started toward the stairs.
"How did that go?" Lex asked, turning around to look at Clark at his side as they climbed the stairs.
Clark laughed. "She pulled my hair and threatened to keep pulling until I was..." Clark stopped, suddenly thinking the story wasn't as funny. They were in the kitchen now, and Lex turned to look at him, a faint eyebrow raised. "Ummm... until I was bald," Clark finished.
Lex grinned at him; one hand unconsciously going to his head and smoothing across the soft skin that Clark could still remember the warmth and texture of. Lex laughed softly, but this time there was no anger, and just the faintest touch of bitterness. The hand moved to Clark's hair, the fingers tangling in the dark strands. "I'm glad you didn't try again," he said with complete sincerity. He pulled his hand back after a moment, looking at Clark.
They both turned in surprise as the cook, a Smallville woman named Mrs. Carter, came into the kitchen carrying a bag of groceries. "Hello, Mr. Luthor, Clark. Were you looking for something?"
Lex turned his charming smile on. "Yes, Mrs. Carter. I believe we were looking for something." The glance he shot at Clark was quick and deep. "You wouldn't have any of that wonderful roast beef from last night for sandwiches, now would you?"
Clark remained silent, watching as Mrs. Carter bustled around the large kitchen, getting bread and other things, putting them on the butcher block island, Lex being charming all the while.
He caught Lex's eye, and smiled widely. He knew, even without having to look through skin and bone, that he and Lex had made a connection today, one deeper than they had before. Maybe Lex was right; maybe they did share a destiny, a future. And maybe they would find what they sought, together.
© EAS, November, 2001
Disclaimer: All canon based Smallville characters belong to WB and/or DC Comics.
I am making no money, just enjoying playing in the sandbox.
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